


Ivy League Hospitality

by corialis



Category: Across the Universe (2007)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-14
Updated: 2012-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 04:05:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corialis/pseuds/corialis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting by in a new country is easy with a little help from your friends. Welcome to Princeton, Jude.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ivy League Hospitality

**Author's Note:**

> For Yvi for Yuletide 2008. Some dialogue lifted directly from the movie, almost all in the first scene. With many, many thanks to prodigy and tammaiya for reading this more than any one person should have to, listening to me whine, and generally keeping me sane.

There is a blond, grinning madman sitting on Jude's desk and panting. "Shit, I'm out of shape," he says, still grinning. "Whoo."

Jude is a little too confused to be paying much attention to their wandering conversation. He's only just gotten in this morning and found out his father was a janitor rather than the professor he'd wanted, and just when he tried to take a simple fag break the next thing he knew he was sprinting through the pipes system with a crazy person.

"You're the guy who was asking for the janitor, right?" asks the crazy person.

"Yeah," Jude says, a little on guard. He doesn't need the mad American's judgment.

"So what are you, like the assistant janitor?" the madman asks, squinting and smiling.

"I'm just bunking down here temporarily," Jude says. This is stupid and frustrating, as interesting as the mad stranger is. It's been a fucking long day, but there's still something about this particular madman that makes Jude totally incapable of taking his eyes off him.

"Why?"

He didn't quite expect an interrogation session. Now the madman is looking around the room as though he can't at all understand why anyone would willingly live in it for longer than absolutely necessary, unless they were high.

"Why do you need to know?"

Maybe that was too far.

"Wanted by the cops?" the madman asks, raising a questioning eyebrow and giving Jude a sharp, teasing look. "FBI?"

Jude can play that game too, mad American. "You know, it looks to me as though you're the one who's one the run." His tone lightens.

"Yeah," the madman concedes. "Thank you for that, by the way." He waves at Jude while walking to the bed. If he weren't so damn tired Jude would probably spend more time wondering why he found the madman on his bed even more interesting than just the madman in his room.

He doesn't give in to the brief urge to sit next to him and goes for the chair. The insanity is clearly rubbing off on him. Time to move on. "What would that lot've done if they'd caught you?" he asks.

"I don't know, something involving genitalia and shoe polish," the madman says as he sits down. And then he pulls out a cigarette. A man after Jude's own heart.

"Ooph," he exhales, firmly not thinking about the madman's genitalia. "Nasty."

"So," the madman asks, "Where's that accent from?"

If Jude didn't know better - mostly - he would think he was being flirted with. Mostly he thinks that the madman is friendly and has eyebrows with minds of their own.

"Same place as me," he says, with an eyebrow of his own. "Liverpool."

"Do you have a name?" says the madman.

Jude nods, pleased. "Yeah," he says, smiling. "It's Jude."

"Max," says the madman, and extends his hand. Jude takes it and as cliché and stupid as it is, he feels like he catches sparks. It's probably static electricity.

"Pleased to meet you," he says.

"Well, Jude," says the madman - Max, actually, though still quite mad. "As a stranger to our shores, the least I can do is offer you some Ivy League hospitality."

Do they shag their visitors in American? Instead, Max reaches to his pocket and pulls out a flask, tosses it over with a crooked smile, and Jude catches it and tries very hard not to think about what's in Max's trousers.

Fuck it, why not. "Cheers."

\--

"So," Max asks after Jude has had a drink or two or maybe eight or ten, it's not really important. "What brings you to our fair shores?"

He would ask that. Jude just shrugs. "'S not important. Got bored of the docks."

And there go the eyebrows again. "I don't believe you, but keep your secrets. I'll get them eventually."

Maybe Jude should be bothered by this. He isn't. Even if he worries that he isn't entirely safe, it's a strangely interesting idea.

"Well," Max declares, "my lost English lamb. I am adopting you."

"Oh really?" Jude returns the eyebrows again, this time with more skepticism. "Why do you need to do that?"

Not that he really minds. The cheap whiskey is making things very warm and his fingers feel full of pins and needles and Max is really very good-looking, if a bit pointy.

"Because," Max stands up so his gestures can be bigger. "America is a big place for lost souls, and I would hate to see you lost amid the debaucherous halls of our fair campus." He puts one hand on the back of Jude's chair and the other on the desk and Jude feels trapped. Jude doesn't think he really minds this either. "Or, even worse, holed up beneath the plumbing," Max adds.

Then he smirks. "And besides," he says, leaning down so close that Jude can smell smoke and feel his breath skittering across his face, "you're kind of cute."

He pulls back with a look in his eyes full of filthy things and Jude shifts uncomfortably and shivers, suddenly cold and half-hard.

"So," Max says. "Let's go meet the boys."

\--

On the walk over to his house, Max explains what a fraternity is and Jude decides it sounds like a combination of a seven-year-old's tree house no-girls-allowed club and a secret gay cult.

"That sounds kind of gay," Jude says, grinning.

Max shrugs and grins back and holds their eye contact for longer than he needs to. "It kind of is. Except we're all children, really." They reach the door and Max raises his hands. "Welcome to the nursery."

"Boys," Max declares as they enter the large, wood-paneled room, "this is Jude. I have adopted him and the tremendous responsibility of giving him a proper Princeton welcome, and expect you to play nicely."

Jude misses their names, generic ones like George or John, but Max shoves him in the direction of the couch as he heads toward the fridge and the other guys seem nice enough. They look ridiculous, dirty shoes sprawled on fancy leather couches, drinking cheap beer in a room that looks like a cross between a library and a hunting lodge. One of them - Chris - kindly reintroduces himself before he passes Max a joint that Jude is a little annoyed didn't make it to him first. Then Max hands it to him and Jude realizes he's got no idea what to actually do with it. Chris tries to explain, and Jude tries not to think about Max's mouth. Score one for American deviance.

"Take it easy, man," Max says. Then he jumps over the back of the couch and starts molesting a picture of a blonde woman; Jude is too busy coughing to really care and the room has gone an interesting kind of wobbly. "And this," Max says, "is my girlfriend. One of many, really."

"Leave her alone, Max," one of the boys laughs. "You're going to wear her out."

Max grins. "I am an experience to be repeated as often as possible," he declares. "And you are all just jealous that she likes me better than the rest of you."

The one that Jude thinks might be John scoffs. "Like Max would tire anyone out," he says, with a ridiculous arch of his eyebrow. "Now I, however, am a thing of glory and a joy forever to have between your legs," he adds, and grabs his crotch for emphasis.

"If you say so, man," Chris says with a smile. "Now come on, let's get to the damn bar already, I've had enough of drinking with only your ugly faces."

\--

They saunter into the bar, Jude dumbfounded and with a swimming head and morbidly fascinated by the giant, garish tiger painted on the wall next to the table that they make their way over to, boys leering at anything they pass that's wearing a skirt.

They order pitchers and Max flirts shamelessly with the waitress, winking and jokingly chasing her back to the counter before an elderly man starts looking his direction - he laughs that off too, like everything else, as he heads back to the table.

"Found yourself a new boyfriend there Max?" probably-John asks.

"You know I only have eyes for you, baby," Max says. "Though Jude's charming accent here may just steal my heart." Then he winks at Jude and it's probably the beer or the weed's fault but Jude grins like an idiot.

"I'll just do my best then," he says. "Though you should know I'm far too good a catch to be held down long by the likes of you."

"We'll see," Max says. "So, who's up for losing at pool?"

The migration to the pool table is loud and George grabs a cue off the rack and promptly hits Chris across the ass with it. "You," he says, "will be well acquainted with my stick before the night is done."

"The only one handling your stick will be you, as usual," Chris retorts. "While that redhead by the bar will be thoroughly enjoying mine."

A different table of girls looks in their direction and George raises his glass to them in salute. "I'm going to miss college," he sighs dramatically.

"Stop your swooning and let's get on with this game," Max says from behind Jude. "I told you it was kind of gay," he stage-whispers into Jude's ear. "But you don't seem like you mind too much."

"As long as you don't go getting any ideas," Jude says mock-seriously. "I have my virtue to protect, after all."

"Don't worry," Max replies, grinning wickedly. "That's all mine now."

Jude isn't really worried at all, actually. A pretty girl walks by their table and causes a mass head-turning, but when Jude jokes about love at first sight he shoots a quick look in Max's direction out of the corner of his eye.

Jude is also not very good at pool. He's always been better at darts anyway, and now he's had enough to drink that he can't exactly focus on the table. Or anything else, really.

"You are an excellent opponent, Jude," Max says as he walks over to the other side of the table chasing the cue ball. "I only wish we were betting on this one. I would have you bent over this table by now."

Something in his expression makes Jude think he may not actually be joking.

"Cool it there Casanova," George says, and hits Max between the legs with a pool cue. Jude has to break their eye contact when he doubles over laughing.

"Right then," he says, "I'm going to go get another drink." He's definitely pissed enough as it is, but if he doesn't walk away from Max then one of them really is going to end up bent over the pool table, no matter how many people are around. And that would be uncomfortable for everyone.

Well, everyone except Jude and Max. Jude's pretty sure they'd be too busy to notice, and he smirks to himself at the thought.

He leans on the bar and waits for the bartender to notice him. Someone else does first, though.

"Hey."

A brunette in a blue sweater leans on the bar next to him. "What does a girl have to do to get a drink around here?"

"I wouldn't know, I've been having no luck at all," Jude says. He's not especially interested and she's not especially pretty, but she's friendly and he's bored, and maybe Max will see. He grins at her. "But you're prettier than I am, so maybe you'll have a better shot."

She gives him a sideways look and smiles. "I don't know, you're not too bad yourself. And you have the accent to help you along."

"Not much use if the bartender never comes over here, though, is it?"

She laughs and puts her hand on his arm. "Maybe if you bat those eyelashes of yours a little more we'll get his attention."

"I'll do my best. Wouldn't want to let a lady down."

It looks like Max has finally seen. Jude notices out of the corner of his eye but refuses to turn his head and focuses intently on the brunette. "So," he asks, using his most charming smile, "what's there to do around here other than drink?"

"Hey," Max comes over and slings one arm loosely around Jude's shoulder. "Smoke break outside? Need some air."

Jude hopes he doesn't look as smug - or as turned on by Max breathing on his ear like that - as he feels. If he were sober he would know this was a bad idea, but he's not and Max is touching him and it's distracting. He has really interesting hands.

"Sure," he says. The girl isn't very interesting anyway. Nothing compared to Max's hands.

"Boy time," Max explains very seriously to the girl as they walk away, but his cat-in-cream expression probably makes it hard for her to believe him. "You understand."

She doesn't look like she does and scowls. Jude just shrugs and follows him, with a fake rueful smile.

The November air is chilly and Jude crosses his arms and shivers as he leans back against the wall. Max, smug bastard, pulls out a cigarette and a lighter and lights up. The alley only has one light above the door that hardly does its job and the ground is covered in trash and cigarette butts, broken bottles and old papers and what Jude thinks looks like a discarded condom.

Then he looks over at Max and realizes the way he wraps his mouth around the cigarette is really just dirty.

"Jude?"

Max is smirking behind the cigarette, eyes glittering like a demon's in the half-light.

"What?"

Jude kind of wants to punch him in his smug face for looking so satisfied. Or maybe kiss him. He's not sure. Mostly kiss him, though.

"Nothing." Max drawls. "You seemed distracted."

Jude glares at him halfheartedly. "Cold. And that bird was cute."

If Max continues looking this amused Jude decides he will not be held responsible for his actions. "Liar," he says, and he is suddenly standing very close to Jude.

"You were bored," he says, nonchalantly leaning one arm over Jude's shoulder on the wall. Jude feels his breath hitch. He is very aware of all the places where they aren't touching.

"I've seen better, I suppose" Jude says. "And, you know, Americans. Not a very interesting lot."

"Oh," Max says, and Jude can feel his breath ghosting over his ear. He blames the shivering on the cold. "That's a shame. I'm really a very," and he leans in, and his mouth is on Jude's neck, "interesting person," as he traces obscene patterns with his tongue, "once you get to know me."

Jude tries to hold on to the wall as he feels like his knees are starting to buckle. "Really," he somehow manages to gasp out.

Max bites his neck in response. Fine. Maybe a little interesting.

"Yes," Max drawls. "Fascinating."

He leans in and a soft brushing tease of lips becomes something pressing and demanding and Max tastes like cigarettes and beer. Which were formerly among Jude's top favorite things but all previous contenders for favorite thing are now replaced by Max and his body pressing Jude back against the wall, tongue in his mouth and hand tightly on his hip and shirt clenched in Jude's hand that has somehow wrapped its way under Max's arm and onto his shoulder.

"See?" Max says, pulling back but close enough that his lips still flick maddeningly against Jude's as he talks.

Jude would answer him but is too caught up in Max's hands now pressing against the tented front of his jeans and sliding up his shirt as he twists and the rough brick of the alley scratches his back, sharp moments of punctuation in his haze but he doesn't care because he just wants and wraps his other hand behind Max's neck and pulls him back in, and Max laughs low in his throat and presses him back so there's no space between Max and him and the wall anymore.

Max leans back and Jude slowly opens his eyes, breath still shallow. "Yes," Max says again. "Very interesting."

Jude isn't sure if Max is talking about himself or Jude, but Max smiles roguishly at him as he steps back and turns toward the door. "I think your boring girl misses you." He makes a sweeping motion toward the door. "Shall we?"

Jude had forgotten all about her, and when they get back inside she is back with her girl friends and throws him a nasty look over her shoulder.

The one who Jude is pretty sure is George starts complaining that he is hungry, and Max's eyes light up like gleeful small child's after he has decided to glue together all of his sister's dolls. "Gentlemen," he says, "I believe a break-in is in order. But there is one small order of business to contend with first."

\--

Jude thinks they're just stopping back in the house to restock on drugs, but then Max turns to him with gleaming eyes. "Boys," he says, "I think it's time to put Jude's pretty mouth to better use."

They apparently know what Max is talking about while Jude is confused but mostly trying very, very hard not to think about sucking Max's cock on one of those leather couches. Trying so hard that he doesn't notice as they push him towards the fire escape.

"Up we go!" John says happily.

Why is George carrying a golf bag? Bugger that, he's too busy worrying about not falling off the metal staircase and dying to care.

Or at least, he is until they get to the top and John and Chris playfully push him to the ground. At first he's too busy laughing to be worried but once he's actually on the ground he's definitely more concerned.

"This won't hurt a bit, I promise," Max says as he rifles through his pockets before George tosses him a club. "I will take excellent care of that lovely mouth of yours. Breaking your teeth would ruin your accent."

Then there is a fucking golf tee in his mouth with a fucking ball on it and Max is definitely way too fucking drunk to be holding a fucking golf club near Jude's face. Jude mostly just tries not to move and squeezes his eyes shut as the club descends. All Americans really are fucking bonkers.

"There now," Max says. "Was that so hard?"

\--

Max carries a wire hanger with them as they leave the fraternity house. They stroll across a giant lawn to a different brick, ivy-covered building that looks exactly like every other low brick building in this place.

"Ssshhhh," John widens his eyes and presses one finger to his mouth melodramatically. He looks a little like a fish and Jude can't help but laugh. So John lightly hits him on the head. "Be vewy quiet," John says, very seriously. "We're hunting wabbits."

"The fuck is he on about?" Jude asks. Mad, all of them.

"Your situation is clearly more dire than I expected," Max mutters.

They walk through the dark and shuffle around to a side of the building where the browning ivy vines have nearly overrun a side door. George does something to the handle that looks kind of like a complicated boxing move and it opens. "Used to date a girl who lives here," he explains.

One by one they slip quietly through the door - or would if they were marginally more functional. Instead they end up elbowing each other and making annoyed hissing noises and Jude thinks someone may have grabbed his ass before George trips over something that and then they all fall into a giant heap and Jude starts giggling again.

Someone he thinks is probably John smacks him again. "Wabbits," he says solemnly.

Maneuvering out of the pile isn't the world's easiest task but somehow they manage with a minimum of smothered laughter and knees in uncomfortable places. "Straight," someone hisses. "Then left when you walk into the wall."

Jude tries to grope his way along the dark hallway but has to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. He casually debates whether he'd be able to pick Max out from the group by touch alone but as enticing as the idea of kissing Max again is - and it's very, very enticing, and a shiver runs down his spine as he remembers Max against him in the alley - it's not worth accidentally kissing George instead.

Eventually they turn left and stumble into another door, this one with dim light coming from under it. "Move over, kids," Max whispers loudly. He starts unbending the coat hanger and makes no attempts at avoiding stabbing anyone who is in his way. Once it's shaped to fit his standards in a way Jude can't see, he slides it under the door and starts wiggling it around. In the weird half-light coming from under the door, Jude can see that he's biting his lips in concentration, a job Jude would gladly take over for him. "Got it," he says in a hushed but still triumphant voice as he stands up and opens the door.

Onto a kitchen.

"We broke into a building probably illegally because you lot were hungry?" Jude asks, not especially concerned with being quiet. No one seems to mind, probably because they've gotten to where they wanted.

"Well, yeah," George says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Don't you have a fridge?"

"They have better food," George says as if Jude is an especially daft child.

Jude can't actually remember why he didn't think this was the best idea he'd heard all day.

\--

"You know what we should be," Max declares.

Everyone else looks at him.

"What?" Jude finally says, because someone had to.

"Octopi," Max says, very sure of himself, while lying back on his elbows in a pile of empty beer cans and cereal that never made it to his mouth. "And we will plant gardens and be happy and have many arms, and never worry about war or college or parents or running out of beer."

"I don't think octopuses have gardens," George says thoughtfully.

"That's what you think," Max says. "Like you know anyway. You don't even know their plural form."

"Do too," George says. "Either one is fine."

John just giggles. "Octopussy,"

Chris throws a banana peel at his head. "That is just lame."

Then Max lobs an orange at Chris's head that hits Jude in the chest instead, and things go rapidly downhill from there. There are a lot of empty beer cans and fruit and plastic-wrapped snack foods around for ammunition.

At one point Max drapes himself over Jude and whispers, "told you I was interesting," and licks his ear. "If I were an octopus I would let you play in my garden," he says very seriously. Jude grabs a handful of cereal off the floor and drops it on Max's head and can't do much else but grin.

\--

Someone has the brilliant idea of playing hide-and-go-seek in the library, which Jude thinks looks like a giant church, and Max smiles in a very evil way. Jude is pretty sure he should hide from Max but the voice in the back of head is telling him he really, really wants to be found.

Or, of course, he could do the finding himself.

George closes his eyes in the middle of the tiled entry and starts counting to one hundred and Jude tries to sneakily follow Max up the stairs. It doesn't really work, Max keeps turning around, but Jude is pretty sure that he hasn't actually seen him.

Then Max saunters into a room near the end of the hall and Jude waits a few minutes before he walks in.

"About time," Max says with a smirk.

Damn. He thought he'd been so sneaky.

"You sound like a herd of elephants when you're going up stairs," Max says.

"Do not," Jude says indignantly. He's quite stealthy.

"If you say so."

Max is lying back on an expensive-looking leather couch with his arms behind his tilted-back head and his hair falling in his eyes and Jude feels his breath come quicker through the fog of drunkenness around his head.

"I do say so," he says. "But I don't think talking is really the important thing to be doing here."

He slowly walks across the room - only swerving off course once - enjoying the way Max's eyes track him. "Maybe we should be putting your pretty mouth to better uses, now," Jude says, sitting down and leaning across so he and Max are chest to chest, "though I have better ideas than using you as a putting green."

Max's smile slithers across his face. "For someone with such good ideas, you're doing an awful lot of talking."

If he said anything he would prove Max right, and Jude really does have better ideas.

Instead he leans down and kisses him, fingers roughly entwining in Max's hair to pull him closer and feels Max's hands come up to grab at his arms hard enough that it might hurt if he were sober and paying attention but he's too busy with the feel and taste and smell of Max underneath him and he rolls over on top of him in a needy attempt to just get closer and Max arches and pushes into him and Jude slides his other hand up Max's shirt as Max tries to maneuver them still closer until they thud off the couch and onto the floor.

Jude blinks. "You're fucking heavy," he says breathlessly, and they both dissolve into drunk laughter before Jude leans up and kisses Max again.

The sound of someone's footsteps in the hall distracts them and Max pushes Jude off him. "Quick!" he says. "Hide!"

Max seems to take this game very seriously and tries to burrow under the couch as Jude crouches behind a large armchair. Unfortunately for both of them, Max's lower half sticks out and gives him away, and Jude's mad giggles make him easy to find. As he stands up he tries to think of unsexy things.

\--

Next is John's turn to find and Jude decides he'll sit this round out. It's Max's move now. And anyway, Jude is slowly going mad. He stumbles aimlessly down a set of staircases and a dim hallway into room in a corner of one of the lower levels. He just wants some damn quiet for a minute and maybe while he's down there he'll finally be able to breathe long enough to calm his raging hard-on; he takes a deep breath and leans against a desk tucked underneath a row of shelves.

"Hello there."

Max somehow managed to be the sort of sneaky Jude failed at. He swaggers out from behind a bookshelf, devil's own grin on his face and half a still-bright cigarette in his hand.

Jude is in such a haze of drunk and begging for it that he just mutters, "Well that's a fire hazard."

Max laughs and Jude shudders. And then next thing he knows Max has ground the cigarette under his heel and Jude's back hits the shelf as Max pounces from across the aisle and is growling in his ear.

"You're a goddamn tease, you know that?" Max whispers roughly, hands roaming over Jude's body as his breath comes harsh and quick.

Jude laughs breathlessly. "Hypocrite."

The smart retort he was working on is smothered as Max kisses him hungrily and he feels the back of his head hit a book and his knees buckle as he slides sharply back onto the desk but doesn't give a shit as he grabs Max's jacket and yanks him closer. He's practically horizontal, hands desperately clutching Max's lapels and pulling him nearer until they're nearly on top of each other and then they are as Jude manages to wrap one leg around the back of Max's knees and pull him down and can finally really feel him, wants to touch him anywhere and everywhere but not stop kissing him and the whole world is spinning behind his closed eyes.

Max slides his hand in between their bodies and starts roughly stroking between Jude's legs and he groans into Max's mouth.

Max pulls back and grins again. "Careful," he says. He tries to sound like it's a warning but he looks like he's having far too much fun for him to be worried about anything. "You make too much noise, they're going to find us."

The look in Jude's eyes is positively wicked and he pulls Max's jacket off his shoulders. "Let them."

Max swears under his breath and his eyes seem to smolder like the end of one of his cigarettes as he reaches down and pulls Jude's shirt over his head. "If that's how you want to play," he breathes, "then let's play."

Jude is still very drunk and a little high and doesn't really care because all he is focused on is very intently separating Max's shirt and jumper. "Stupid detailing," he mutters, scowling down at the offending layers.

Max just laughs low in his throat and pulls the whole set off over his head and the scarf flies off with it. "As cute as I find your attention to detail," he says, "I think we could put it to better use elsewhere."

Then he unzips Jude's trousers and slides one of his long-fingered hands around Jude's cock and Jude arches back and nearly cracks his head on the shelf. Max yanks his trousers and underwear down to his knees and presses against him and kisses him again and Jude can feel the rough fabric of Max's khakis rubbing against him. He should really, really take care of those. He goes for Max's zipper but is foiled by his belt and Max snickers and undoes it himself while somehow not stopping his other hand's movement. Maybe, Jude thinks dazedly, he really is an octopus and just has eight hands.

But then he manages to get Max's trousers down and of course Max wouldn't wear any fucking underwear but then he leans backward onto the bookshelf and pulls Jude off the desk and against him and Jude presses him back into the shelf and bites his neck.

He's not entirely sure what he's doing but it's the same basic equipment and he slides his hand down Max's side and over his hipbone and between his legs and they're both gasping as Max wraps his hand around the back of Jude's head and pulls him up and kisses him hard and after a few fast strokes Jude inhales sharply and bites Max's lip and sees white behind his eyes before he hears Max hiss and feels his hand clench in his hair before he slumps slightly breathlessly forward.

Jude tries to step back but had forgotten he still had his trousers around his knees and falls backward. The desk catches him but not very gently and Max trips forward and lands on top of him, and he hits his head on the bloody shelf again.

"You know," Max says in a sleepy voice from somewhere buried in his shoulder, "those first editions may never recover."

Jude resists the urge to stick his tongue out at the top of Max's head. "Yeah, you may not either," he says instead.

"That's what you think. You're the one who's going to be locked in my basement as my personal sex slave from now on."

Jude grins and Max puts one arm on the desk and pushes himself up to kiss him, lazy and slow. They lie there in a sticky, sweaty heap for a few moments and Jude closes his eyes. If he were a giant cat he would purr.

They hear a voice yelling from down the hall and Max swears viciously under his breath as he grabs his discarded scarf and tries to clean up. Jude hurriedly pulls his trousers back on and goes hunting for his shirt while Max tries to make himself presentable behind him. They both stumble into the hallway and Jude offers silent thanks that everyone else is probably too drunk or stoned to notice how messy and smelly they both are.

Max just flashes his usual broad grin. "Game over?"

They walk toward the yelling and up into the main entranceway where George, Chris, and John are all sliding down the long ,curving banister on the stairs.

"Now this," Max says, "we have to try." And they both run up the stairs.

\--

When the sun starts to rise they drunkenly stumble out of the building to avoid any overambitious students queuing up outside, or so Chris insists and John pauses to briefly execute an enthusiastic drum solo at the top of the steps to the door. "I," he declares, "am king!"

Then he sprints across the grass to join them as they run through the courtyard under the bright just-risen, spinning and jumping and cartwheeling like they've lost their minds with sheer joy and as George hoists him up over his shoulders Jude raises his arms and laughs.

They stagger and sink to the ground one by one in an exhausted pile and lie atop and across each other. Jude ends up with his feet on Chris's knees and his head resting just above Max's crotch, which makes Max snicker and wiggle his eyebrows suggestively. Max still smells like sex and Jude is pretty sure he does too but doesn't care in the least.

"But seriously guys," Max says. "Octopi. Think about it."

\--

They zig-zag across campus and drag themselves back the fraternity house and collapse on the couches or the floor as the birds outside really start getting into things.

"So Jude," Max drawls as they stumble towards the door and just barely manage to unlock it and practically fall inside. "Where are you going next week?"

Jude blinks in confusion. "Well, nowhere, I suppose," he slurs.

"Excellent," Max's voice is thick and tired but his smile still makes it through. "You will come home with me to experience the time-honored American traditions of turkey and fucking in your parents' house."

Jude has no idea what any of this means other than the fucking, but that's really the most important part of the sentence, so he's game.

"If you're lucky," Max whispers loudly as he falls onto a couch, "maybe I'll even take you to a drive-in."


End file.
